Sharing Secrets
by Flutterby Ashes
Summary: Yuichirou's in a bad mood, so he and Rei have a chat. They didn't have any secrets anymore, right? Short little fic that's not much of anything special that may or may not be continued. :


Helloooo! It's been a long, long time! My thesis is finally completed (YES!) so now I finally have time for leisure writing again. But, being myself, I obviously couldn't start out by continuing one of the stories that people are, you know, actually asking about. I had this random plotline in my head for almost a month, so I finally decided to write it down. It's certainly not my best work, but it was a nice warm up to getting back into writing fiction. This could get folded into _Esprit d'Incendie_ at some point, but the timeline is a little off for that. I might continue it, I might not. It all depends on the reviews!

Warnings: Some swear words. Really. That's it.

Summary: Rei and Yuichirou don't have secrets, right? In which Yuichirou reveals where he came from and Rei keeps hiding behind her mask. Mildly fluffy, not really romance type drabble.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.

**Sharing Secrets**

_A Sailormoon Fanfiction_

By Flutterby Ashes

He practically growled, shoving the phone back into its cradle with slightly more force than necessary. He brought a hand up, starting to massage his already aching temple, feeling the annoying beginning of a purely frustration based headache coming on. He wanted to scream or punch something, or possibly even scream _while_ punching something. Yes, that would certainly let some frustration out. He groaned, louder than he intended to, and slumped into a nearby chair.

"Yuichirou?" Rei called, poking her head out from the kitchen, regarding him with an expression that held an interesting mix of fondness and irritation. "Is everything alright?"

"I don't want to talk about it," he admitted. There was no use lying to her and telling her that nothing was wrong. She'd always been able to see straight through him. He looked up at her, intending to smile in reassurance, but faltered. She was chewing on her bottom lip, something she only did when she was worried.

Great, now he'd made her worry about him. Again. He sighed.

"My parents want to come visit the shrine," he said, trying to be as nonchalant as possible. "It's no big deal, really." She didn't know the depths of his issues with his parents, so hopefully that would suffice for now.

It didn't. She still chewed on her lip, eyeing him suspiciously.

"Fine," he groaned, sighing in exasperation. "I'll explain it all later."

She didn't break her intense gaze on him, although her lips held the barest hint of a smirk, and (not for the first time) he wondered if she was trying to read his mind. It was starting to unnerve him. She had no idea how insecure he was, how similar they actually were. If she ever found out, he figured that she wouldn't turn to him to be her rock anymore, and the thought of losing that closeness with her always held him back. She trusted him because he was open, honest, and stable, and he'd be damned if he took that away from her.

'Some closeness,' his brain sneered. 'She tells you everything eventually and you keep hiding secrets from her.'

"Reiko! Is dinner ready yet?" the singsong voice of her grandfather poured into the home, followed almost immediately by the sound of the door slamming shut. He smirked as he heard her swear under her breath.

"Stop slamming that door, Ojii-san! I just fixed it," she replied before turning on her heel and heading back into the kitchen.

Seconds later, the older man appeared in the room, grinning mischievously. "It isn't a good day until I manage to get under her skin," he said, grinning widely. Yuichirou couldn't help but smile back.

They were his family now, no matter how dysfunctional they seemed. They loved him, cared for him, would do anything for him, and he knew the feelings went both ways. They'd been there for him and taken him in when his own family hadn't. What right did his parents have to try and be involved in his life now?

'Stop it,' he scolded himself. 'It's been a long time; it's time to make amends. Besides, Rei would kill for a chance at reconciliation with her father. Don't take this for granted.'

He groaned. Why did everything have to be complicated? He could smell the beginnings of dinner wafting in from the kitchen and decided to see if Rei needed any help.

He smiled inwardly at the image that greeted him. Rei was facing slightly away from him, chopping some vegetables and fish to roll into sushi. Her long raven hair was tied back from her face in a messy bun, so opposite of her usually appearance of casual elegance. He'd been here for four years now, and he'd watched he grow from a teenager into a beautiful young woman. He smirked, remembering the time they had actually kissed after the autumn festival. But that was months ago, and they'd never spoken of it since then.

Seeming to notice his gaze, she looked up at him, and he saw a tinge of sadness in her dark eyes. 'Damn it,' he thought. 'I got her thinking about her own parents again.' He sighed heavily.

"Are you too distraught to make rice?" she asked, a hint of amusement in her voice.

"I don't know," he groaned, playing along. "I've just got so much going on in my life right now." He looked up at her to make his best attempt at puppy-dog eyes in just enough time to see a pot flying in his direction. He caught it effortlessly, training a mock glare in her direction.

"You could have hurt me with that," he accused, moving toward the stove.

"But I didn't," she replied back, smiling.

He sighed, measuring out enough dried rice and water to cook for the three of them as they fell into an easy silence. For a while, all he heard were the soft _snick_s as her knife cut through the food and the light bubbling of the water on the stove.

"So have you decided where you're going to go to university?" he asked, genuinely curious. Her cutting paused.

"Well, to be honest," she said, her voice hesitant. "I'm not sure that I'm going to go."

"What?" he gaped, turning around so quickly that he almost knocked his boiling pot to the floor. "That's all you've talked about for almost a year. Now all the sudden you don't want to go?"

"I want to," she clarified before sighing deeply. "I just don't know what I would study or where I would go and it's all so stressful to try and make those decisions. I think I might want to wait a year or so; I just don't think I'm ready to yet." She shrugged and resumed chopping the vegetables. He continued to stare at her.

"That's not your only reason," he observed, mildly pleased when she stopped in her movements again. He noticed the tension in her jaw as she resumed chewing on her lip.

"Ojii-san hasn't been doing too well; you know that," she said quietly.

It was true. Although the man still acted like a lively teenager, he was anything but. He'd started sleeping later and going to bed sooner. He didn't get many of his chores done because he often got winded and fatigued. On more than one occasion he'd forgotten Yuichirou's name and had to ask for a reminder. The last visit to the doctor hadn't been so great either; Rei had come home almost in tears at the news of how weakened his body had become. It was really only a matter of time.

"I know," he sighed, wrapping his arms around her from behind. He hunched down, resting his chin on her shoulder. "But I can take care of him while you're gone," he offered, trying to take off the pressure that he knew she was putting onto herself.

"I know you would," she said quietly. "I just couldn't live with myself if something happened and I wasn't here."

He pursed his lips, hugging her a bit tighter. There was no way he'd be able to talk her out of that; her grandfather would have to give it a shot. "Have you talked to him about it?"

She shook her head, some stray strands of her hair brushing along his cheek. "You know he'd tell me that I'm wasting my life away. Youth is wasted on the young, and all that." She sighed, letting her head fall backwards against his shoulder, with her eyes staring at the ceiling. "He just doesn't understand that he's the only family I have left."

Yuichirou sighed as well, tightening his grip around her waist. "That's only because he considers all of your friends to be just as much of your family as he is."

"I know," she murmured, "and when I'm honest with myself I think that too. But, he _raised_ me, Yuichirou. He took care of me when my own father didn't want to. That just makes him…he just means more to me, I suppose."

"He's been there your whole life, and the rest of us just came along four or five years ago," he observed.

She nodded, sniffling slightly, the only indication that she had been close to tears. He sighed inwardly. She was a strong person, and many time he admired that about her, but more often than not she was too strong for her own good.

"Come on," he said, patting her arm. "I'm starving."

She smiled slightly, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek, and resumed her dinner preparations.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.

"So, you said that you'd explain things to me later."

Yuichirou resisted the urge to groan from his position on the couch, where he was watching the evening news. He was hoping she'd forget what he had said, at least for the evening. He knew he was trapped when she sat down beside him, skin flushed from her recent bath, damp hair twirled into a simple braid. Trying to stall for time, he glanced at her before returning his gaze to the television, completely ignoring her.

She poked him with her foot. "You promised," she half-whined.

He shook his head, not taking his gaze off of the television. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her frown, her brows knitted together in frustration. He noticed the movement too late, and she quickly flung her arm across him, grabbing the remote control from his arm rest and shutting the television off.

"That's not very polite," he observed, commenting on her outburst and the way she was half sprawled across his lap.

"We don't have secrets, Yuichirou. You said you'd tell me," she grumbled, straightening herself back up.

"I'll tell you as soon as you tell me where you and Minako-san disappear to all the time." He clamped his mouth shut as soon as his words left, wishing he could take them back. Her expression darkened, and she pulled away from him, rising off of the couch and disappearing down the hall.

"Damn it," he murmured under his breath, getting up as well to follow after her.

She'd wandered to the veranda, without a jacket to protect her from the chilling winter air. He swore under his breath again, making a quick detour to his own room to grab a couple of sweatshirts and a blanket.

"Here," he said, handing her a sweatshirt as he put on his own. "You'll catch a cold out here."

"Colds come from germs, not the cold." He couldn't help but smile at her teasing tone; it showed that she wasn't too terribly upset with him. He sighed, sitting down next to her and throwing the thick blanket over top of them.

"You know I'd tell you if I could," she murmured, distractedly watching the stars.

"I know," he murmured, sliding an arm around her. She was shivering lightly, so he pulled her closer to his chest to keep her warm. "We're not staying out here all night," he warned, knowing full well that if she could have her way she probably would sit out and watch the stars until morning.

She nodded, tucking her head into his neck. He wondered how long they would keep doing this, treading the fine line between being together and not. They loved each other, that much was obvious, but he was getting tired of trying to figure out just what that love meant.

"I had a pretty big falling out with my parents, well, mostly my dad, before I wound up here," he began, smirking slightly when she emitted a small gasp in surprise.

"You really don't have to tell me about it if you don't want to," she murmured, but he simply shook his head.

"We don't have secrets between us."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Yuichirou sighed, wiping the sweat from his brow as he loaded another box onto the dolly to take into his new apartment. He couldn't help but smile as he worked, taking great joy in the fact that he was finally moving into a place that was all his own. Just last week he'd received his college degree, started his first job, and proposed to the girl of his dreams.

"You know, son," a tall, stocky man with dark brown hair began, eyeing him with pride. "I wasn't sure what to make of this career choice of yours. I wanted you to join the family business with your brother and me, but you're obviously doing alright for yourself." The man grinned, causing Yuichirou to smile back.

It was true; when he had first entered university his father had been absolutely aghast at his choice to study anthropology. He'd wanted his youngest son to study to be a lawyer, like he and his older son Yoshirou had. He'd always argued that anthropology was similar, because he was studying humanity. It was something that had always fascinated him when he was younger, and so he'd chosen to pursue it. Once at university, he chose to focus on anthropology in religion, after years of hearing his father discuss cases when people claimed their crimes were committed out of respect to their religion.

He'd started his job only two days ago, but he already knew he'd made the right career choice. He was working as a consultant with his father's law firm as the resident expert on western religious practices. It had scared him at first to be considered an expert at such a young age, but he'd quickly learned that he was more than capable of handling the job.

"When do you think Akiko will be here?" his father inquired as the wheeled the next load into the apartment building.

"I'm not sure," he admitted, making to check his watch before realizing that he'd forgotten to put it on.

"Now listen, Yuichirou," his father murmured seriously as the elevator doors closed. "Don't let this one go and take advantage of you."

"Oto-san, please. You don't know her like I do," he defended, getting tired of having this conversation.

"Trust me, I grew up with this name just the same as you. We Kumadas are famous in Kyoto! Everyone knows about us, and everyone knows about the money." He sighed, but his father pressed on. "She quit her job when you proposed, son. Tell me that doesn't set off some alarms in that skull of yours?"

"She wanted to devote all of her time to planning a wedding, planning a life together, oto-san. You can't fault her for that."

The elevator dinged as they reached their destination. Yuichirou headed out first, missing his father's grumble behind him.

"I know a gold digger when I see one."

.-.-.-.-.-.

He groaned, reading over the crumpled note he held in his hands once again. He couldn't believe this was happening. Just yesterday he had been the happiest man in all of Japan, and now it was all ruined.

He could already hear his father yelling, "I told you so."

"Otouto," Yoshirou called as he poked his head into the room. "People are getting restless. Aren't you ready yet?"

Wordlessly, he held the damned piece of paper up in his brother's general direction. His brother accepted it with a suspicious look. "What's going on, Yuichirou?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

"Just read it," he choked out, mildly alarmed at how thick his voice sounded. He watched his brother's face change as he read through the letter. A goofy grin, no doubt at her greeting of "my beloved Yuichirou." Concerned confusion as he read "I've been deceiving you." Barely masked anger when she revealed that their relationship was all a scam.

She was already married, and he would have know that if he would have just involved himself in the wedding planning a little bit. If only he'd offered to take control over securing their marriage license, although he doubted that she would have let him. Her _real_ husband had gotten into some trouble, and they needed a way out of it, so she'd gone sniffing around for an ignorant rich kid to swindle out of money.

He should have seen the signs.

Her refusal to let him meet her family before the wedding. Her apparent lack of any friends, despite her occasional talk about them. Her willingness to quit her job, if she'd even had one, as soon as he found gainful employment and received access to his trust fund.

"Are you alright?" his brother's voice cut through his self-loathing, and all he managed was a shrug.

"Someone should go tell them that there's not going to be a wedding today," he said glumly, hoping his brother would volunteer.

"What do you mean there's not going to be any wedding?" Damn. Their father.

Yoshirou froze, glancing back and forth between his brother and his father, debating on what he would say. They were close, and Yoshirou no doubt knew of their father's impending wrath. He started to come up with an excuse when their father yanked the paper from his hands, reading it with a scowl.

"I knew it," the only man muttered under his breath before storming out of the room.

Yuichirou sighed, leaning forward to rifle through a box before coming up with two bottles of champagne and handing one to his brother.

That was the first night he drank to forget.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"Come on, Yuichirou! Get your lazy rear out of bed."

He groaned. He'd never imagined that at 22 years old he would be waking up in the guest bedroom of his parent's home.

It also didn't help that he was probably still plastered from the night before.

When had he let things go this far?

"Sweetheart, you've got to get up," his mother groaned, shaking him gently. "You're father's going to kick you out if you don't find yourself a new job soon."

"What does it matter?" he groaned, perfectly content to keep wallowing in his own self pity.

"Stop being ridiculous," she chided, sitting down on his bed and brushing his now shaggy brown hair out of his face. "I know you're still hurting, dear, but nothing's going to get better until you start trying again."

He groaned, staring up at her deep grey eyes. "I don't want to."

"You're not a child anymore," she said, her tone stern. "Now, I've set up six interviews for you today. Go and get your hair cut and get yourself cleaned up." She made her point by standing up and ripping his comforter off of him.

"Geeze, mom!" he shouted, snapping upright in bed. "You haven't done this since I was like five."

"Well then perhaps you shouldn't act like you're five."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.

He'd panicked during the first interview.

It might have been because he was late. It might have been because he didn't have time to get a haircut. It didn't really matter why, he supposed. It was like he'd never been to school, never worked in his field before. He'd forgotten everything he ever known about religion and anthropology. Not only that, he'd managed to sound like a bumbling idiot.

Afterward he'd snuck back into his parent's house and packed the few things he thought he would need in a simple duffle bag. Less than two hours after the disastrous interview, he found himself seated on a train bound for Tokyo.

He couldn't go back to his family. He was a complete and utter failure, and he'd done it to himself.

When he arrived, he'd stumbled into the first bar he saw and drank himself into oblivion. He wasn't entirely sure of what all transpired that night, and he barely rememebered being woken up on the shrine steps and taken into his Osho-sama's home, but he knew that he had finally found his place, and that was all that had really mattered.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.

"How many times have you talked to them since then?" she asked, linking her fingers with his subconsciously.

"I don't know; not too many times," he admitted. "I called my mom after I wound up here. I didn't want her to be worried. She calls every now and then, so I guess we keep up pretty well. I've only spoken to my dad a couple of times. He's never been too happy to talk to me, thought I can't really blame him."

She nodded, squeezing his hand in hers. "And now they want to visit?"

"I think it's mostly my mom's idea. I know she wants to fix things between my father and me; it's hard on her to be caught up in the middle. I know he gave her hell for that time that we all stayed at their ski cabin."

She winced. "I'm sorry about that," she murmured.

"Don't be," he said, enjoying the feel of her body close to his.

"I didn't know you were engaged," she said, a hint of jealousy in her voice. "I didn't even know you went to university."

He felt a little bit guilty at his secrecy. "I thought it would be hard to talk about it," he admitted, and she laughed lightly.

"I know what you mean," she admitted quietly, and he caught the tone in her voice that meant she was drifting off. He felt her shiver against him.

"Come on," he whispered, moving to stand up to his feet. She didn't budge, yet her hand stayed entwined with his. He knelt down, reaching for her chin to bring her face up to his.

He was a little more than surprised the feel dampness on his fingers.

"Hey," he whispered, cupping her cheek in his hand, using his thumb to brush a few tears away. "What's wrong?"

He could think of a number of things that might have upset her. Maybe his story had reminded her of her own struggles with her father. And there was still the matter of where she and Minako occasionally disappeared to. He couldn't imagine that she enjoyed keeping secrets.

She shook her head, stifling a quiet sob. "Just…just don't worry about it."

He smiled slightly. "You know I can't do that," he whispered, pressing his forehead against hers. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "I'm sorry for keeping secrets from you. I'm sorry for bringing up bad memories."

"No, no," she said, clearing her throat. "You don't need to apologize." She sniffed, and just like that her composure returned. It almost scared him to see how easily she could shut her emotions off. "I've just been thinking about a lot of things. Things I'm not ready to talk about yet."

He nodded, standing back up and reaching for her hand again. "Come on," he whispered once more and she relented. He immediately wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close and smiling as he pressed a kiss into her still damp hair.

"Kami, you're freezing," he murmured, immediately moving to pull her back inside and sliding the veranda doors closed. "Come on; I'll make you some tea."

She nodded, following behind him and rubbing her arms to warm them as she stared absently into the space around her.

"You're wonderful," she murmured, playing with the hem of her sweatshirt with her free hand. "I mean, you've always been such a great friend to me. I don't know what I'd do without you sometimes."

They'd reached the kitchen then, and he relinquished her hand, moving around to fill the kettle up with water and turn on the stove. He sighed, weighing the options in his head as to what he should say. He was being reckless with his emotions tonight.

"But just as a friend, right?" he asked, nonchalantly.

He didn't turn around quickly enough to see her wounded expression. By the time he did, all of her emotions were hidden behind that carefully constructed mask, and she was desperately avoiding looking anywhere near his direction.

She looked vulnerable; he felt bold. "Why did you kiss me?"

Her gaze snapped to his immediately, and something within those dark depths seemed to break.

"I wanted to," she answered carefully, her voice strong.

"Just once?"

She flustered, a dark blush immediately staining her cheeks. She wanted to lie to him, but she knew he would see right through her. "No," she said quietly, her eyes drifting to the floor.

"Then what's holding you back?" he asked, half whining. This was as much of an admission of her feelings for him as he was certain he was going to get. "What are you so afraid of?"

"You."

It was his turn to be caught off guard. She still wasn't looking at him, but he knew she was being sincere. "I thought…but you said that you wouldn't know what to do without me. How can you be afraid of me?"

She sighed, learning back against the wall behind her. "You could hurt me," she said simply, and the light bulb went off in his head. "I don't want that again."

Immediately he was at her side, hands gripping her shoulders gently. "You trust me, don't you?" he asked, silently begging that she would look up at him.

"Of course I do," she murmured, her gaze shifting to a spot just left of his ear. His hand reached forward, gripping her chin gently, urging her to look at him. She finally relented, and he saw it. Deep in her eyes, he saw the love and affection he had yearned to see for so long. More than that though, he saw the fear, the absolute panic that she would wind up alone again.

"Then trust that I won't hurt you," he requested, resisting the urge to claim her lips in a kiss. This had to be her call; he would be damned if he would ruin this before it even started.

Behind him, the kettle suddenly whistled, breaking the spell that had fallen around them. Annoyed with the sound, he pulled away, opening a cupboard and pulling out a large mug for himself.

"Cup or mug?" he asked, turning to look at her once more, carefree smile on his face.

"Mug," she half whispered, coming to stand beside him to help prepare the tea. As soon as he'd finished pouring the water, she took his hand in hers, drawing his attention back to the shorter woman with him.

"I know you wouldn't," she murmured, bringing her other hand up to push shagging bangs out of his eyes. "But I just don't…"

He smiled as her voice trailed off, bringing her hand down to press a kiss to her palm. "Don't worry about it," he said, hoping his voice sounded more cheerful than he felt. "I guess I just got a bit too caught up in figuring out secrets."

She smiled, although it didn't reach her eyes, and he sighed.

'I don't think I'll ever figure her out.'


End file.
